Fable: Tales of the New Kingdom
by Neo-Hurricane
Summary: Two storylines spanning two generations of a heroic family details the adventures of Heroes in the times of the New Kingdom
1. Chapter 1

Introduction:

It's a miracle! That's what most proud parents exclaim after witnessing the glorious process of childbirth. However for the parents of newborn Michael Collins, the only thing his parents could think of was, "Dear Lord, it's a curse." The moment Michael was born, everyone could see what he was. The luminous red glow was a dead giveaway. Peter ran the delivering doctor through on his sword to prevent the news from spreading about his newborn son, and immediately wrapped him up in a tattered blanket. Joanne knew exactly what her husband had to do, and she kissed him goodbye.

"Good luck," she whispered.

"Luck is for our son my love. Our fates have been sealed," he replied regretfully.

Peter ran off into the night with his son and his blade, hurrying to the one place he knew his son would be safe from himself. Peter only hoped the place existed as he had heard, and that he could get there before he was caught with his terrible secret.

Chapter one: The Hero's Journey, Beginning.

Willow trudged frustrated through the wide stone walls of the ancient castle of which she and her peers called home. Willow had lived here ever since she was five years old when her mother brought her, against the will of her father, to grow up and develop her special gift as she only could do here. The new Hero's Guild.

Willow, now eight years old, had grown to become one of the most promising young Heroes in the early age group, causing even the more experienced students and teachers to take notice of her skills. And yet no matter how much praise and admiration she receives, it only succeeds in annoying the golden haired sharp-shooter, for Willow prefers to be left alone as her concept of reality has made her a skeptical and very moody femme fatal.

Moments ago, Guildmaster James requested that Willow go and wake up another one of the students so that he would not miss his training today, and she begrudgingly obliged. Willow rapped on the door and shouted impatiently into the room of her least favorite Hero in training.

"Wake up stupid! You're going to be late again, she yelled with no answer from the inside.

"Michael! Wake up or I'm going to kick your butt!"

A few thuds and rustling sounds could be heard from inside the room and moments later the shirtless young Hero appeared at the door.

"Hey Willow, good morning," Michael greeted her kindly, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Get outside, Guildmaster doesn't want you to be late for training again," Willow made her point quickly, wasting as little time as possible with the boy. After getting her message across she walked quickly back down the hall towards the training ground, not wanting to be late herself.

_-Vrump-_

Willow jumped in surprise when Michael appeared fully clothed in front of her with a goofy grin on his face.

"Don't do that!" She shouted at him.

"What? I thought that was a pretty skilful use of Time Control. I'm ready aren't I?" Michael chuckled before turning around and jogging down the hallway, "Hurry up! You're going to be late Willow!"

Willow huffed and stormed back down the hallway, determined not to let the boy beat her there.

"You irresponsible little snot!" Willow cursed Michael, sure that he wasn't listening, as always.

_-Vrump-_

Both children fell on their rear ends after bumping into the same thing, a very un-amused Guildmaster.

"I am usually in full support of friendly competition young Heroes, but when it interferes with your training instead of supplementing it then I have to object," Guildmaster James scolded them in an authoritative tone. Both children hung their heads and grumbled.

"Sorry Guildmaster," they apologized in unison.

"Good," James smiled and assisted Michael and Willow to their feet and patted them on the shoulder, "Now Willow, go to the shooting range and work off that frustration. Michael, I would like you to come with me if you please," as soon as the words left James' mouth Willow was gone, wanting to get as far away from young Michael as possible. Michael nodded his head and walked with the Guildmaster through the courtyard.

This wasn't the first time that the Guildmaster had taken Michael aside for a lecture. Michael was different from the other trainees, and not in a small way like personality. You see, when Michael uses his Will magic, the runes that appear on his body are a vibrant red instead of the beautiful blue which is the norm. No one knows why, and as a result Michael has become a sort of outcast among his peers. Not only do the children mock and ridicule him, but the adults are critical of training such a boy without first knowing what he might become. Guildmaster James was one of the select few who did not fear Michael and his differences, and had taken it upon himself to raise him properly to adapt to the world and how it might respond to him.

James put his hand on Michael's shoulder and gently guided him around the grounds of the Guild. James brought him to the cemetery, where many great Heroes from the past were laid to rest.

"You know my son, hundreds of great and powerful Heroes have dedicated their lives to bettering this world, making sure that there was a world for us to grow and live in. No matter what hardships they've endured, adversity they had to overcome, and the enemies and friends alike who decided to stand with or against them, they persevered, and they came out better for it. I have had the privilege of knowing each and every one of these fallen Heroes during my many years teaching at this Guild, and each one has had to deal with struggles similar to your own. They grew up in a time where Heroes were thought of as an absolute evil, as demons, as something that was to be exterminated on sight, and yet these brave men and women still fought on to make the world safe for the very people who demanded their extermination, and for the future wave of Heroes like you to continue they're struggle. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you son?" James queried the quiet and intrigued boy.

"Yes Guildmaster, I understand," Michael replied.

Because of the Guildmaster's special caretaking of young Michael, he had come to see the boy as his own son, and Michael felt as if James was the father he never knew.

During the lecture, the two had been walking through the peaceful scenery of the graveyard, and eventually Michael came upon a large gravestone that was completely blank.

"Guildmaster?" he asked, "Do you know who this Hero is?"

The Guildmaster approached the stone and laid his hand upon it gently, "No my boy, whoever this was, it was no Hero that I knew. I must ask the gravekeeper some day and discover who it could be."

James then led Michael back to the training grounds so that he would not miss a full day of work.

"Now go and become a Hero Michael, and do not let the simple adversities way you down," he said.

"Yes Guildmaster, I'll try," replied Michael, and he ran off to join his brothers and sisters for their day of learning.

The Guildmaster sighed as he watched over the boy, truly questioning if he was doing the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two; Peter's Journey, Escape.

Into the night Peter ran with his minutes old son clutched tightly to his chest. Westcliff wasn't the sort of place that was easier to sneak around in at night, as the citizens tended to be just as active during the day as they are at night. The Arena had just gotten out and the crowd was gathering in the town center to discuss the brutal proceedings they had just witnessed, as well as to complain about the contender's controversial demise. Peter knew the only way to escape was through that crowd. He also knew that if he tried then he would be caught and forced to give up his baby boy. It was horrifying, the thought that even if his closest friends discovered what his son was, a descendant of Heroic blood, then they wouldn't waste a second to burn the baby alive and force him to watch.

Then, like a gift from above, the distraction he was looking for. Mayor Wilson descended the Arena stairs and was greeted by a mob of angry fans.

"Everyone saw that assassin kill the competitor Wilson! You can't cover it up! You screwed us Wilson," the mob shouted their curses at Wilson, but the Mayor merely smiled and waved as if they were chanting his name in praise, which is probably what he was hearing in his head.

This was Peter's chance, while everyone was secretly thinking about murdering Mayor Wilson, no one was going to think about murdering his son! Peter slid baby Michael under his jacket and slowly slipped his way through the crowd, envisioning the open road that was just a few feet away.

"Peter! Peter my boy, the man of the hour," Mayor Wilson exclaimed enthusiastically above the crowd. Peter was frozen in his tracks as the eyes of the town fell on him. The guards cleared a safe path for Mayor Wilson to approach the trembling man. Peter had to think quickly, or this entire ordeal would be for nothing. Standing next to the bread stand, Peter made his only choice available to him and hid him away among the loaves of bread.

"Peter! So good to see you. Tell me, has your little gift from that lovely wife of yours arrived yet?" The Jolly Mayor Wilson asked.

It took a moment for Peter to even register the words in his mind and responded, "Yes, yes he has," he said in a shaky voice.

"He you say? So you have a baby boy, well splendid. Where is the lad?" Wilson asked, "Oh I do hope you haven't decided on a godfather just yet, I would simply be honored to hold the title. After all I would rather like to be closer to the greatest blacksmith Westcliff has ever known, perhaps I could even get a slight family discount when my Arena runs low on weaponry," Everything Wilson said was spoken so quickly that Peter could barely muster a coherent answer under all the pressure.

"Yes, yes of course...I mean, err, he isn't here," was all Peter could think of.

"Oh so he's still at home with his mother, how heartwarming. I shall pay her a visit at once," Mayor Wilson said in passing, turning towards Peter's home with his elite guards in toe.

Peter wanted to stop him, he wanted to with every fiber of his being. However if he did, then Michael would surely be discovered and his life would come to an abrupt end. Then again, if Wilson was allowed to find his wife without the baby and a murdered doctor on the floor, then Joanne would surely suffer the same fate. It was either his wife, or his son. One will live and one will die.

"Mayor Wilson," It took every ounce of strength for Peter to utter those two words. The Mayor turned around with a quizzical smile.

"Yes Peter?" he replied.

A deathly silence fell over the entire town as Peter searched for the right words to say.

"Send my wife my love," a pale faced Peter spoke solemnly.

The Mayor nodded and went on his way, allowing Peter to pick up his son once more and head for the road out of town, escaping forever the town of Westcliff. Tears marked the path he chose.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three; The Hero's Journey, Opportunity.

Michael packed up his supplies in a backpack; food, clothes, and some survival tools. Michael had turned thirteen a few days ago, and today was the day that he would embark on his very first quest. Yesterday a farmer had come to the Guild requesting some help in order to get a super powered head start on his crops this season. It wasn't exactly what the Guild was meant for, but the farmer promised a decent pay day and that was enough to convince the Guildmaster that it was okay to make an exception just this once.

Michael took one last look around his room, just to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. His gaze came across the sword on his wall and he starred at it for some time. This sword, along with the blue blanket that he wore as a belt at all times, were the only things that he had when he was delivered to the Guild's doors, or so Guildmaster James told him. Michael knew this quest was merely an escort mission coupled with some farm work, but he would still feel better knowing that he had even a little part of his family protecting him on this quest. He took the long sword down from the wall and slung it over his shoulder. Feeling more powerful than ever before, Michael stepped out of his room and made his way to the front gates of the Guild where he would depart on his very first quest as a Hero.

"About time you showed up Bloody," said the always cynical Speer. "Bloody" was the less than endearing name that Michael's fellow Heroes in training have bestowed upon him, not for a blood thirsty nature of any sort, (that would be Speer's forte), but because when Michael used Will, he looked like he was washed in blood and not in water because of his red runes.

"Very funny Speer, I'm surprised you beat me here. I thought you would be off slaughtering a chicken or some other defenseless creature and lose track of time," Michael shot back at him.

"Why you dirty little freak," grumbled Speer, who advanced on Michael but was held back by the very large and always peaceful Shunt.

"Hold on there man, we can't kill each other before the quest even begins," Shunt scolded Speer, pushing him slowly away from Michael.

"Yeah? Well how about after? Can I dice him then?" Speer asked sarcastically, shrugging Shunt's arms off his shoulder aggressively. Speer shot Shunt a look as if to say, "don't forget your place," and of course, Shunt backed away as he always did.

"Both of you knock it off," Willow snapped. She walked up to the group with their client, a lanky old farmer whose age was written on his face. Willow had her hand on her hip, tapping her foot as she had swiftly lost her patience with Speer's and Michael's constant bickering. "Get your acts together, be professional for once in your lives." It didn't take long for both boys to shut their mouths after that. Willow seemed to have that sort of power over people.

"Thank you for helping me young Heroes, I can't tell you how grateful I am to have your assistance. You are going to make this season so much easier on this old man," said the shaky farmer.

"It's no problem at all sir, we're happy to help," Michael spoke up.

"Please, call me Albert young man," the farmer said kindly, "Now, we should head out. There is a long trip from here to my farm in Brightwood and we don't want any bandits catching us at nightfall."

"Yes sir, err, Albert," ambitious young Michael answered. Willow and Speer rolled their eyes and walked ahead, while Shunt walked closely behind Speer and Michael hung back to keep Albert company. The children's first quest had finally begun.

Many hours past as the Heroes ventured through Brightwood, this being the first time any one of them had ever been outside of the Guild since they were brought there, the children took their time to take in the beauty and variety of the outside world.

"So, why don't you tell me about yourselves Heroes? Do you shoot lightning and raise the dead like all the old stories?" Albert asked.

Speer and Willow just huffed at the farmer's ignorance, but Michael was more than happy to oblige Albert's curiosity.

"Actually, we haven't exactly gotten that strong yet. So far we only have acquired an affinity for one form of magic or another. Like me, I am pretty good at using fire, Shunt can Force Push just about anything out of his way, Speer is really good at summoning lightning, and Willow can blow hot air like no one else," which warranted a glare from Willow, "that is to say, she's really good at wind spells," Willow whipped her head back forward and flipped her long blonde hair out of her face. Michael could only look on and admire her as she walked. The farmer caught the twinkle in Michael's eye and snickered. Albert leaned down to Michael's ear and whispered to him.

"So you have a little crush on the girl I see," Albert said.

"Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that," Michael said as his face turned red, "I mean she may be rude and obnoxious at seemingly all hours of the day, but there's just something…something underneath that~Ow!" Michael stopped abruptly after stubbing his foot into something metal.

"What now Bloody?" Speer asked impatiently.

Michael picked up the object and examined it. It appeared to be a very tarnished and very dented piece of armor, possibly a shoulder piece.

"Put that trash down and let's get moving, I don't want to make a day long trip into a week long one," Willow the fearless leader commanded. Michael couldn't help but admire the trinket and secured it onto his shoulder, making it his own.

"It looks good on you boy," remarked Albert, "but you're right Willow, my farm is just over this ridge. Let's get moving shall we?" The group moved along and was able to successfully deliver the farmer to his destination. However, that was only one portion of their quest.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four; Peter's journey, World of Beasts

Peter Grimly walked down the dark and heavily wooded path, unable to free his mind from the act that he just committed, sentencing his wife to death for his newborn son's crimes. The thought held his mind captive like a prison, and the pain in his heart wracked him like a thousand years of torture with every step.

Peter looked down at his son, still asleep in his arms. It was incredible, here he was feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his baby boy was sleeping so soundly it was like Avo was rocking him in his arms. It was like they were complete opposites in every way, perhaps that was for the best.

_Grr..._

"What was that," Peter wondered. He'd never heard anything like it before, and even more frightening is the fact that he had no idea where it came from.

_-Awroooooooo!-_

That sound was much more recognizable. It was either a wild dog, "or a Balverine," Peter swallowed hard, searching the area for any sign of the beast. The fact that there were no balverines in sight was possibly more frightening then if he saw one ten feet away from him. Now every sound he heard in these woods sounded like a lethal monster to Peter. He cradled his son in his left arm, drawing his sword with his right and taking every single step with caution and purpose. Peter could feel the breath of the animals on his neck as they stalked him through the woods. It was unbearable, these animals could spring out of the threes at any moment and attack, so what were they waiting for? Peter knew the stories, Balverines were fabled as the most ruthless animals to roam Albion, and if they didn't kill you then you could bet the farm that you would be turning into one soon enough because of their dark curse.

Peter walked for hours with his sword and his son, the tension was mounting and every step felt like the last one. He came into a clearing, what appeared to be the remains of a slave camp. He made a large sweep of the area, making absolutely sure that there was nothing laying in wait to murder him and his son. Peter sat down on the edge of a wagon, and for the first time since the night before, he let out a sigh of relief.

-_Arwooooooooo!-_

The blood thirsty howl of his sinister stalker filled the early morning air. Peter placed his son behind his back on the wagon, protecting him in any way he could.

"Aaah! Aaah!" Michael had finally woken up to his father's dismay, though in a strange way it was comforting to hear his baby's voice, just to know there was nothing wrong with him…nothing else wrong with him.

Just then, a pearlescent flash flew out of the trees and straight in front of the new moon. Like a bird it flew straight at Peter with a deathly howl. Peter screamed, drawing his blade defensively on instinct, unable to predict what was about to happen. It moved so fast that he couldn't even distinguish what it was. That hardly mattered, he just wanted to survive. In a moment Peter was face to face with the hairy, demon-eyed monster, freezing him in his place. He had no idea what to do. The creature raised its arm high above his head, ready to deal the fatal blow.

_-Shink shink shink shink shink-_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five; The Hero's Journey, Discovery.

The barn door opened wide, revealing a less than sturdy structure holding up the large building. The four Heroes looked inside, questioning the wisdom of this idea. Giant beetles scurried across the dirt floor, as well as the ceiling. There were several holes in the side walls made by who knows what. The horse stalls have been converted into what the farmer called "makeshift bunks".

"This is where you kids will be sleeping, cozy aint it," asked the overly proud Albert.

"Well, it sure is one word that starts with a C," Speer replied. Albert didn't get it, he simply smiled and walked away, "Y'all get comfortable now, work begins in the morning," he said.

The Heroes just looked at their new temporary housing, not exactly up to the standards any four of them were used to. They wondered if the place had ever seen a brush that wasn't for the sole use of grooming some dirty animal.

"Well," Shunt started, "we should get started cleaning this place up so we can get some sleep. Let's at least get rid of these beetles," he said, walking into the barn and looking for a few bugs to squash. Speer unhooked his twin sickles from his belt and went on the hunt as well, eager to let some blood fly, even if it was just bug blood.

"Everyone just stop moving and get your asses behind me," barked Willow. Both Shunt and Speer turned their heads back to her, confused.

"Oh come off it Willow, you're not the boss of us," argued Speer. That of course was before Willow drew her crossbow and aimed it at Speer's head. An awkward silence fell over the barn as Speer stepped behind Willow obediently, Shunt not far behind. Willow focused her energies and a small gust of wind blew through the barn. The gentle gust quickly became a large whirlwind that began sucking up each and every beetle hiding in the barn. Willow raised her crossbow once again and took careful aim, then released a volley of arrows into the powerful Vortex spell, one by one picking off each and every bug being flung around helplessly inside of it. The bugs flew out of the vortex at high speeds, the arrows carrying them through the barn walls, only making more holes in the structure. By the time the winds died down the beetles were all cleared out, unfortunately the beds were ruined as well.

"Nice one Willow, now where do we sleep," asked Speer.

"Stop complaining Speer. If you're good maybe I'll find you a mouse that you can bite the head off of," Michael chuckled at the expense of his rival. Once again Shunt had to hold Speer back to keep him from ripping Michael's head off.

"The straw, idiots, we're sleeping on the straw," Willow said, already setting up a nice comfy pile for her to sleep on.

Eventually the other boys got their acts together and gathered some straw to sleep on as well.

"Is everyone else reading the writing on the wall here," Michael asked the rest of his group.

"You mean the writing that says you are completely incompetent and you don't belong here," Speer replied spitefully.

"Enough Speer. Shut up or you'll be sleeping outside tonight," Willow said, once again shutting Speer down after he got one good look through the holes in the wall and seeing the storming rain, "what are you thinking Michael?"

"I'm thinking we aren't here to do farm work. I'm thinking we are here to protect Albert," Michael said with an upset look on his face. He stood up and stepped over to the holes in the wall, "look at this, the holes that Willow made with her arrows almost exactly match the size of the holes where the bunks used to be. Think about it, farm hands are usually young and strong, so why would all of Albert's be gone already? It can't be about money because he was able to afford us. I think whoever worked here before us was assassinated in their sleep, and we are here to catch whoever did it, because Albert thinks that they are going to try again."

The other three just sat in silence as Michael's puzzle solving made the whole picture look so clear.

"Wow, Michael, that actually makes perfect sense. I'm impressed," Willow said, stunned that Michael figured it out before her.

"Wow, really?" Michael asked, a proud grin on his face.

"Yeah, don't let it go to your head. Come to think of it, when Albert asked about our powers he sure seemed more interested in combat abilities and not anything that had to do with farming. Either way, we still have to figure out for sure if it is true, and if it is then what do we do about it," Willow replied.

_-Boooooooom!-_

A huge explosion rocked the entire farm and the dark night turned bright as day for a few moments. Each Hero craned their necks to see what happened and Michael said, "I'd say we do something about that."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six; Peter's Journey, Reluctance

The body of the fallen warrior fell to the ground in a heap, its body punctured repeatedly leaving a very bloody mess. Peter fell back on his ass, wondering just what the hell happened here. Two hooded figures approached the bewildered traveler, looming over him. One slowly walked over to the still crying baby who sat alone on the rotted wagon and picked him up, trying to console him. The other held out his hand, offering it to Peter so he could help him off the ground. Peter took the hand and stood on weak knees, still unsure if these men were friend or foe. Still, they saved his life, and for that they deserved his gratitude.

"Thank you, you saved me and my child," was just about all Peter could think of.

"We didn't save you," the man holding his son sneered, "we were hunting that monster, it just happened to be hunting you. You make good bait."

Peter didn't quite understand, "Wait, so you were hunting that balverine this entire time," Peter asked.

"That is no balverine," said the other man, "take a closer look." For the first time Peter got a good look at what was trying to kill him for the past five hours. It sure looked like a balverine, but there was a distinct difference: it was wearing armor, and it was carrying a magical staff. "That sir, is a Dark Beowolf, a minion of Skorm." And as if the gods of evil clichés were watching over the scene, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky at the mention of the dark lord's name.

"How do you two know all this," Peter asked, "I've never seen anything like this before in my life. Who are you people?" The question silenced both men, not wanting to relinquish their anonymity to a peasant nobody.

"Let's start with you, and why you are travelling in these woods with a baby. Are you mad," the larger man asked, looking down at the child in his arms. Peter looked down at his feet, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing.

"I…I was running from Westcliff," Peter replied.  
"And why would you do that friend?" the shorter dreadlock sporting man asked.

Peter wondered if he could trust these men with his secret. He eyed them up and down for a moment before realizing one crucial thing: they were like his son, they had marks all over their body, they were Heroes!

"My son, he's a Hero. I had to take him away from Westcliff or else he'd be killed like all the others," Peter finally answered. The two seemed skeptical about the man's story.

"How could you possibly know he is a Hero? One doesn't show the signs of Heroic blood until at least the toddler years," the larger man questioned.

"Well it was simple sir," Peter answered. He reached forward cautiously towards his son being held by the larger man and pulled part of his blanket down, revealing the still vibrant red runes all over his infant body, "he's got these strange marks all over him. I know only Heroes have them."

The two men stared at the glowing red baby, for the first time in a long time they were both speechless.

"Demon," the large man said with an angry scowl on his face.

"No! He's a Hero just like you two, I know that much," Peter shouted frantically.

"My friend is right I'm afraid, your son may have some Heroic blood, but he is also a very powerful demon incarnate," the smaller man said. The larger man took Michael over to a bench, pulling the massive scythe from his back and raising it over his head.

"I'll destroy it," the angry blade wielding man announced.

"No! You can't! He's just a baby, he's done nothing wrong," Peter shouted. He moved himself in front of the baby, not allowing the large Hero to take another step further.

"Back away human, this is for the best," the large man said solemnly.

"Never," Peter shot back bravely.

"Scythe, stop," the smaller man finally spoke up. Bother men turned their attention to him.

"Garth, you know what this boy will become. You've seen it before," Scythe said. You could feel the energy Scythe wanted to expend to strike down the two before him.

"Indeed, I have, but I also did not take the time or initiative to change what he could have become. This child is an innocent, and we have the power to influence his destiny. Is that not what you recruited me for Scythe," Garth's words seemed to move Scythe, and he lowered his weapon. Peter let out a sigh of relief as the threat against his son's life was seemingly averted, for now.

"Thank you Garth, thank you Scythe, I owe you two my life. My name is Peter Collins, my son is Michael," Peter said with much gratitude.

"And that is what we are taking as payment, rather your son's life." Scythe said, eliciting a gasp from Peter. "We are taking your son away so that he may learn to control his power, and so he will be no danger to the world."

"What? No! You can't have him! He's my son," Peter cried.

"Either we take your son, or we take your son's life. There is no other option," Scythe decreed. "Tell me, how could you possibly properly protect your son from a power neither of you know anything about?"

"I was going to bring him to the Hero's Guild, to train with their masters," Peter answered weakly.

"The Hero's Guild?! Ha! The Guild has only been rumored to have been restarted. Even if it has, they would have no one experienced enough to handle this kind of power. Do you even know where the Guild is," Scythe said, further demoralizing Peter.

"I don't care, at least it is something. Something better than the life we left behind, better than life with you," Peter retaliated angrily. He obviously was not giving up his son for anything. Scythe laughed heartily at Peter's foolish determination, but Garth remained calm and collected.

"We shall take your boy to the Guild. If we deem them up to the standards necessary to help your boy, then he shall remain with them. If not, the boy will be ours. That is the fairest deal I can offer you Peter, take it or leave it," Garth starred into Peter's eyes coldly, letting him know the seriousness of the situation. Peter could only slump his shoulders and nod in agreement.

"Okay," Peter said.

Scythe huffed, doubting the wisdom of such a bargain, "wonderful, now we have two more defenseless lambs to protect. So be it," Scythe said calmly, possibly speaking to himself more than anybody. He handed baby Michael back to Peter, and Peter hugged him against his chest tightly.

"Let us be off, the Guild is in Bower Lake's surrounding forest and it is a long journey," Garth said before turning and walking down the path, followed by Scythe and Peter. There were still so many questions to be answered, but for now Peter was just happy to be safe with his son once again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven; The Hero's Journey, True Colors.

All four Heroes rushed outside of the barn to see what could have caused such a violent explosion, and their worst fears were realized. The explosion came from Albert's house. The Heroes looked into the fire as it raged on, already consuming the entire structure of the house.

"There's no way he survived that," Shunt said, not wanting to admit that the old man was dead. Michael refused to believe it, and he ran forward towards the house to check on him. The other three tried to follow, but as soon as they took their first steps from behind the barn a hail of arrows rained down on their position. Two arrows bounced off of the shoulder armor that Mike was wearing and Shunt was able to push Willow and Speer out of harm's way, but in his selflessness he was caught in the calf with an arrow before he made it back behind cover.

"Damnit! They hit you," Speer cursed.

"I'm okay," Shunt said. He tried to stand, but he was unable to put any weight on his right leg.

"Okay my ass, you're done. Let the real Heroes take care of this," Shunt's supposed best friend Speer said insensitively.

"Wait, where is Michael? Did he make it to cover," Willow asked, less concerned for his life than their numbers dwindling any further. She looked to the burning house and saw Michael, trying to find a safe way inside. "Michael," she shouted across the field, "what the hell are you doing, you're going to get hurt!" Nothing seemed to be getting through to him. Michael looked deep into the fire, trying to find any sign of life. It was so bright he could barely see, and the heat was pushing him away.

"Albert!" He called to him, listening closely for an answer. He heard none. He was so frustrated, he had to get in there to see for himself. He had to rescue him, but it was an inferno in there.

In the meantime, Shunt Willow and Speer were still pinned down behind the barn. No one could tell where the shots were coming from, it seemed like everywhere at once. Willow wasn't about to let herself be deterred by the situation. She loaded up a few arrows into her crossbow and eased to the edge of the wall. She peaked around the corner, and instantly three arrows fired on her. She ducked back into cover and grinned. Willow had seen where the arrows came from this time. She took a moment to breath, then spun out from around the corner one more time and fired on the three assassins in the trees. She was confident that each arrow would hit dead on their targets, but when they impacted all she heard was wood. "Impossible," she thought, how could she miss? Suddenly another arrow from an unknown location came streaming by and stuck into Willow's arms. She shouted in pain and was forced to retreat behind the wall once again. Speer was losing control, he had no clue why they were being beaten so badly by some random assassins, it just didn't make sense.

"Where are they," he asked.

"You can't get to them, just relax. We need to think of a plan," Willow said as she pulled the arrow out of her arm and trying to maintain control.

"There isn't anything we can do. They are ready, they have supplies and arrows and don't have to move. We have two wounded and an idiot who can't stop looking at fire. We have to do something, now tell me where they are," Speer barked at Willow, and for once Willow's calm demeanor disappeared, they were out of options.

"When you turn the corner, one is three meters to the left and ten meters straight up. If you make it up there you should be able to take them out in close combat," Willow said plainly. Speer turned and readied himself to attack, but Willow grabbed his shirt and pulled him back around, "Speer, you can't use lightning. You'll burn down the whole forest." Speer was visibly upset at his newest order, but he turned around without protest regardless. Speer once again unhooked his dual sickles form his belt, taking a deep breath to calm his unsteady nerves. It was the most focused any one had ever seen Speer. He shot out from behind the barn like a cannon, keeping himself low as he ran full speed to avoid the arrows. He was moving so swiftly, ducking and dodging every arrow that soared his way. When he got close he used all the force his legs could provide and jumped straight up to where Willow had instructed him to go. He could almost make out a body in front of him.

_-Boooooov-_

Some unknown force pushed Speer out of the air and sent him crashing to the ground with a big thud. He was knocked out by the impact and was laid out on the ground. Everyone was wondering what hit him, but Shunt knew.

"Force Push…" said the master. It was clear now that they were dealing with a Hero, rather a bandit lucky enough to have Heroic powers.

Michael looked upon the scene with despair. Shunt and Willow were hurt badly, Speer was lying out in the open completely vulnerable, and Albert was still MIA. Michael felt like he was burning up inside, it was overwhelming. His runes began to glow and that caught everyone's attention. Michael looked down at his body, wondering what was happening. He noticed that his clothes where beginning to burn, had he stepped into an ember? How did that happen? He tried to pat out the fire, but it was spreading so quickly. Within seconds Michael was engulfed in flames, burning alive, and in a flash he was gone.

Willow and Shunt saw the whole thing transpire, and were in utter shock, "no…" Willow whispered. Shunt held Willow, who was shaking at this point, "This shouldn't be happening, it can't," she reasoned with herself. Shunt can't walk, she couldn't shoot, Speer was knocked out, and Michael was…gone. Apparently, the bandit saw what happened as well.

"Well that was a pretty flash now wasn't it? He burnt up real good," the snarky bandit shouted out. The man jumped out of the trees with a large grin, slowly approaching the unconscious Speer.

"Who are you, where are the others," Shunt called out from behind the barn.

"Others? No mate, I'm the only one here. Deadlock's the name, and I've been staking this farm out for weeks now, ever since the old man refused to give it up to me. I've got crossbows Gerry-rigged all over this place, booby traps too," the bandit explained. It all made perfect sense now, the reason Willow couldn't hit the assassins is because there was only one and he only made it looks like there were ten of them hidden all over the place!

"I hope you lot don't think you were the first group of nobodies that old fool used to fight me. Stupid old man, using children to hide behind, pathetic. Oh well, time to mop up this place, should make a nice lil' retreat for me and me lads," and with that, Deadlock stood over Speer and raised his weapon, a very large blunderbuss.

The sky suddenly became even brighter, caused by the flames in the house increasing in strength. The flames began to build on itself, growing into a pillar of fire that shot above the trees. Incredibly, the fire left the ground all together, and formed in the sky like a miniature sun. The entire group, including Deadlock, was forced to stare at the burning orb in the sky. It began to uncoil, forming a long, snake-like formation. It evolved further, seemingly sprouting giant wings of flame, and even a furious and demonic face. No one could believe what they were seeing, it was like a dream, but for Deadlock it was a nightmare. Deadlock was terrified of the flames, and wanted them gone by any means. He turned his weapon on the fire in the sky with shaky hands and shouted in a battle cry.

"AHHHHHH! Stay away from me!"

Deadlock fired his weapon several times, unloading his ammunition into the flying inferno dragon with absolutely no effect. When he was done he dropped his weapon, and the sky monster snapped forward, surrounding Deadlock in its flames. For nearly a minute the tower of flames burned in that one spot, and as quickly as it appeared it was gone. When the fire was gone and the night was dark and rainy once again, Willow and Shunt starred into the smoldering crater that remained. Deadlock was gone; his gun now a melted piece of nothing, Albert lay next to it, and an unconscious Michael was lying next to him. Willow walked with Shunt over to the scene and cleared her throat tiredly before finally speaking, "let's go home Shunt…please."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight: Peter's Journey, Long History.

The silence was deafening. None of the three men had spoken a word since the incident at the old slave camp. Neither Scythe nor Peter was happy with the agreement they made. The only thing that kept the silence between them from driving them mad were the sporadic Dark Beowolf attacks that quite frankly Scythe and Garth were growing tired of fending off time after time. They were beginning to attack in greater numbers and greater frequency, and even the two battle-hardened Heroes were starting to feel the effects. At long last a lull in the attacks came, and the three decided on a place to camp out somewhere deep in Brightwood. Garth started a fire and the three sat down around it, still none of them were willing to break the muted conversation.

Peter looked down at his baby boy; he had been quite restless as of late, seeing as he hadn't had much quiet time to nap or even eat since their journey began. Though tonight all his crying seemed to come to a halt and he slept peacefully in Peter's arms, the first time since he was born it seemed. Peter sighed and placed Michael on a bed of worn shirts and rags so he could sleep, and so he could rest his arms.

"'Tis a calm night," Scythe finally spoke.

"Indeed," Garth agreed.

Peter only nodded along. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but was afraid of getting in a shouting match with Scythe again. There was enough tension in the air, he didn't want to add to it. And yet another side of him, the concerned father in him, was dying to know what was going on. He knew these two men had answers and he was determined to learn them all.

"Garth, Scythe, I'm sorry but I have to know. What are these Dark Beowolves and why do they insist on attacking us," Peter asked tentatively. There was another long silence, then Garth decided to answer.

"We all know that when a balverine bites or scratches a human and it survives, he is transformed into a balverine himself. Dark Beowolves are Skorm's doing. He takes a balverine and uses his dark magics to mold it into a vicious, magical fighting machine. They bow to his every whim, and he is using them to form an army. An army that will conquer and destroy all of Albion, and the world," Garth explained.

"Aye, I've been battling with Skorm throughout the millennia, sometimes eye to eye, sometimes against his armies. However, even in my eternal age I've found that time can take its toll on any man, and so I've spent the last few centuries trying to find the ones who could continue my fight if I were to be slain. Garth is one of those men. He helped avert the danger of the Tattered Spire over one hundred years ago, and now his mastery of Will is going to help save the world once again," Scythe elaborated.

Peter was entranced by the story the two men told, he had no idea one could live so long, let alone spend that life fighting. Still, that was only one question answered. He still had much more he wanted to learn.

"Incredible, but what does any of this have to do with my son? Why are you two so focused on how he is raised," Peter questioned further. Scythe grew irritated and he adjusted himself in his seat uncomfortably.

"Because your son is a demon. Like we said before, he has the spirit of a very evil monster inside of him, and left alone that monster would devour your boy's soul and take him over, and then use him to wreak untold havoc upon the world," Scythe was getting worked up, so Garth motioned for him to calm himself so he may continue the story.

"Like my friend said, if not properly controlled, that demon would transform into his true form and devastate all that we know. Your son must be taught to control his inner demon in the most literal sense; it's for his own good. What particular demon that is living inside the boy, I'm not sure, but his marks don't lie," Garth finished, letting Peter take in the information as best he could.

"I do, its name is Dalga," Scythe spoke up, causing both men to turn their heads and focus deeply on his words, "Dalga is one of the original beings to exist in this dimension," he continued, reaching into a bag at his waist and throwing a sparkling dust onto the fire. The dust began to transmit his thoughts into pictures both men could see through the flames, "He is what the ancient texts call 'fire lord', as he takes the form of a massively huge dragon formed of pure fire. Old creation myths tell of Dalga being the one who formed the sun and the stars, and is the original source of all heat energy in our universe. As such, he played a vital role in the formation of our planet. Dalga was celebrated as the god of the ancient world, but the ancients became modern, and the modern forgot about him. The stories say he was angered greatly by his fall from power, and wreaked his vengeance by purging half the planet of life. An ancient mystic was able to expel Dalga from this dimension using a very powerful spell, saving humanity as we know it. However now it seems that Dalga has found a way back to this dimension, and it is through that baby boy," Scythe said, pointing at Michael, "Skorm once suffered a similar fate at the hands of yours truly, but it seems that he was able to return without the need for a vessel. I'd like to see them both utterly annihilated, but Garth's merciful nature is going to keep that from happening."

Peter looked upon his child, dumbfounded that such a power could exist inside such a tiny thing, "do you think anyone can save my son from that demon," Peter asked quietly.

"There is always hope, Peter," Garth replied calmly.

"It seems that our storytelling has amassed an audience," Scythe murmured.

"I agree," Garth said, beginning to charge an electrical spell for whoever was stalking them. Twelve Dark Beowolves emerged from the trees, and the brief peace turned into violent fighting once again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine; The Hero's Journey, Growing Up.

When the four Heroes arrived back at the Guild the very first thing they did was go to the Guildmaster to tell him what had happened. Michael didn't say a word the entire trip back, nor did he speak at the meeting with the Guildmaster. Speer and Willow took the time to explain what had happened at the farm, what had happened to Albert, and what had happened to Michael. When they finished their story the two had expected Guildmaster James to be in utter shock or disbelief, but he merely nodded calmly as if he had heard it all before. The entire experience was just surreal to them.

"Thank you young Heroes that will be all. Go check on Shunt in the infirmary, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Oh, and I'd appreciate it greatly if the details of this quest were kept between the four of you and myself, do you understand," James asked in his usually calm and soothing tone. Willow and Speer failed to understand, but they nodded in agreement regardless and left for their rooms for some well deserved rest.

Five years past, and each of the four Heroes have become prodigies in their own rights. By now each of the four have gone on to completing quests on their own, though Speer still frequently brought Shunt along as a human shield if for no other reason. Michael's secret was kept confidential from the rest of the Guild, however Speer wasted absolutely no time in bragging and exaggerating about his own exploits on that mission and every other one he'd ever been on. He's become the talk of the Guild, leaving his rivals in the dust when it comes to renown.

Michael has been accepting fewer quests than the other three, instead he has spent his time studying and mastering his Will energies, especially his fire magic. Ever since the incident at the farm five years prior Michael's greatest fear was losing control again and possibly incinerating someone innocent. He still had no idea what he was, what he had become, and so if he went on one of his rare quests it was mainly because he thought he could find some answers to his questions about himself. Other than that, Michael's only concern was winning Willow's heart.

"Willow! Hey," he called over to her after seeing her return from yet another successful quest. She turned her head to see her admirer, then huffed impatiently before turning back around and continuing on her way, never breaking stride. Michael hurried over to Willow and walked with her, persistent as always.

"I take it your quest went well," Michael asked.

"Of course, I even got a little something extra from the town as a show of gratitude," Willow bragged while showing off her new golden necklace.

"Very impressive Willow, it looks great on you. Maybe you can wear it tonight," Michael said with a twinkle in his eye. Willow could only sigh and reply, "Okay, I'll bite, why would I wear it tonight?"

"Because tonight's the night you go out on a date with me," Michael answered, confident as ever.

"Michael please, what makes you think that I'd go out with you tonight after all the other times I turned you down," Willow questioned cynically.

"Because I can take you to the peak of the Hero's Tower," Michael said, stopping Willow in her tracks. She turned her head and looked into Michael's eyes, silently asking him if he was telling the truth. He was of course referring to the weather worn tower that stood tall next to Bower Lake that's summit for centuries has eluded even the most ambitious adventurers and Heroes. It wasn't as if the tower was too tall to scale, far from it. Anyone who has attempted to climb Hero's Tower has been met by a magical barrier, probably left there by its creator centuries ago.

"How could you possibly do that," Willow asked curiously.

"You'll never know unless you go out with me tonight," Michael answered simply, and walked away. Willow clearly had no choice.

"Meet me at the tower at seven," Willow called out to him, and Michael waved as a reply.

When she finally arrived she found herself alone, in the shadow of the enigmatic tower. She questioned herself, wondering if it was truly a wise idea to go along with Michael's game. It wasn't until she spotted a figure in the water that those questions left her mind and instead she turned her crossbow on the mysterious shadow.

"Hey calm down will you? It's just me," said the dark figure, revealing himself to be none other than Michael when he swam into the moonlight. Willow lowered her crossbow and sighed.

"I almost shot you you jerk, don't sneak up on me like that," Willow snapped at him. Michael could only laugh and motioned for her to come into the water with him.

"Come with me Willow, the water's fine," Michael said, extending his hand to her. Willow crossed her arms in defiance.

"Are you joking? I'm not going swimming in these clothes, and don't get any funny ideas about me taking them off," she answered sternly.

"This will only take a moment Willow I promise, it will all be worth it," Michael said, trying to calm her nerves. Willow's curiosity got the better of her, and she took Michael's hand and stepped into the waters of Bower Lake. Willows touch was soft and gentle, completely opposite of the way she acted, it was like a dream to Michael. Though true to his word, Michael didn't waste her time and swam with her deep into the lake until he found a very particular spot in the water. When they stopped swimming, Willow looked around, wondering what to expect. She looked at Michael for an explanation, but he merely stared into her eyes with an all knowing smile, squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Stay calm." She didn't know what he meant by it, but for some reason Willow trusted him and squeezed his hand back with a smile.

All of the sudden the dark water began to shine brightly, as if the moon itself was underneath the lake and shared it's light to illuminate the entire area. After that both of the Hero's runes began to glow and a strange yet familiar energy flowed through them, and within seconds they had both disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten; Peter's Journey, Confrontation

Skorm's armies were relentless and soon Peter and his protectors found themselves in full retreat. Scythe used his mighty weapon to force their own direct path through the woods while Garth watched their backs and struck down any Dark Beowolves who would pursue them. Even Peter found himself in the heat of battle, using his sword to strike down the occasional beast that made it through his protector's defenses. The night sky was filled with the sounds of clashing swords, bloodthirsty roars and a dark chilling laughter from a disembodied voice, taunting the fleeing men.

"There, through the threes, I can see the lake! That means we're almost there right," Peter asked.

"Indeed, the Guild is hidden in the trees on the other side of the lake. If we can make it there then the shelter of the Guild's walls will provide us ample fortification we can use to fend Skorm and his armies off," Garth assured them. The three stumbled through the trees into the clearing, finally a defendable position. One by one each of the surviving Dark Beowolves marched out of the trees as well forming an entire rank of them. There had to be at least forty of those bloodthirsty monsters standing there ready to rip their heads off. Peter stepped behind Scythe and Garth and checked on his baby who was once again crying because of all the commotion. They were cut off, Dark Beowolves surrounded them on three sides, and their backs were against the lake with no where left to go.

"It seems this battle is inevitable Peter," Garth spoke solemnly.

"Not a battle," A dark resonating voice rang in the three men's ears, "a massacre."

The air turned cold as an ominous black fog enveloped the entire area. Peter's blood felt like it had turned to ice as the dark presence hung over him. The black fog began to take form in front of the line of beasts, and when the fog was gone a tall dark hooded man stood in its place.

"…Skorm…" Scythe muttered angrily, "to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?"

"My pets have proven themselves insufficient when it comes to slaying you me decrepit old friend," Skorm replied with his low crackly voice, "and so I've taken that responsibility as my own."

"Decrepit?! If I remember correctly you are about a few hundred years older than I am Skorm," Scythe barked back.

"Maybe so, but it is you who can barely lift his weapon, you who has grown old and bitter, and you who is looking for a replacement to carry on your eternal struggle, while I stand comfortably before my army on the verge of destroying the one thing that stands in my way of total domination," Skorm answered back confidently. Every word he spoke was like a long drag of nails on a chalkboard.

"Your quest for power is in vain Skorm, there will always be those who defy you," Garth chimed in, glancing at Michael and Peter, "I've seen that even those outside the Heroic bloodline will lay their lives on the line in order to protect the ones they love. Goodness like that creates a power so great that as long as it exists you will never rule this world."

"Don't speak in riddles fool," Skorm scoffed, lifting a boney finger and pointing to the baby in Peter's arms, "I know all about the latent demon powers that baby possesses, and once I am finished with you he will also be crushed by my hand."

At the end of Skorm's declaration the entire force of Dark Beowolves converged on the trio. Scythe grabbed Peter by his shirt and pulled him close, "swim across the lake and get to the Guild. There is nothing else you can do here. Go…GO!"

Peter wanted to stay and fight, but Scythe left him no other choice. Peter ran into the water while Garth and Scythe covered his retreat. One Dark Beowolf tried to lunge at Peter to cut him off, but Scythe jumped in front of the beast and took the hit himself, losing his golden armored shoulder piece in the process as it flew deep into the trees. Peter looked back one more time, trying to think of anything he could do to assist the Heroes, but the truth was the best thing he could do for them was to get away and survive. He strapped his son to his back with his shirt and swam through the lake for all he was worth, the only sounds he could hear were those of the battle going on behind him. The water felt like molasses, and every stroke was a labor that he had to push through with all his might. Every scream and cry of battle shot him in the heart just like the pain he felt when he ran from Westcliff and he knew that he'd seen his loving wife for the last time. Peter made it to the far shore of Bower Lake, and by that time the night had fallen silent once again. He unstrapped his son Michael from his back and made sure he was still okay, and he was, but when he peered across the lake to see what had happened to his valiant protectors all he could see was a vacant shore. Peter had no clue if Scythe and Garth had escaped or even defeated Skorm, it was as if they were never there.

"Hahahahahahahahahaha," there it was, that same horrifying laughter that has been haunting him the entire day. Peter noticed something floating across the water, but it was too dark to make out, that was until he realized that it was dark because the thing was pitch black by nature. It was the same black fog that has been pursuing him all day.

"Oh no…" Peter whispered. It seemed that Scythe and Garth had bought him all the time they could afford and Peter was on the run once again.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven; The Hero's Journey, The Longest Night.

When they finally reappeared Willow and Michael were standing high at the top of Hero's Tower looking over the lake. Willow's eyes were wide with wonderment as she took in the scene and she walked to the edge of the tower, still holding Michael's hand. In all her adventures as a Hero, never had Willow seen a scene quite as breath taking as the one layer out before her that night.

"It's so beautiful, but how did we get up here," she asked.

"You already know Willow," Michael replied cryptically, snickering. Willow turned and looked at Michael, trying to confirm her theory.

"You mean…a cullis gate," she asked.

"That's right, somewhere underneath the lake is a cullis gate that leads up here. I found it when I was swimming here about a month ago. When I passed over the spot above the gate I felt that weird surge of energy I get whenever I'm standing on one, and the next thing I knew I was up here," Michael explained.

"Why didn't you tell anybody about it," she questioned further.

"Because, I wanted to share it with you first," he spoke back simply. Willow couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ever since she met Michael she had been nothing but rude to him, she had hurt him so many times so why was he being so…romantic? He was so devoted, she'd never felt this way before, never thought that she could. Willow stepped closer to him, looking deep into his eyes as an overwhelming feeling of warmth flowed through her. She leaned in and closed her eyes, laying a sweet kiss on his lips. Willow felt something deep inside of her, something she thought she lost long ago open again, and the feeling was amazing. When she broke the kiss there was a long silence, neither one knew exactly what to say.

"Willow I…" Michael started.

"Michael no," Willow stopped him. A lump in her throat formed and she tried to clear it. It was finally time for Willow to be honest because she finally felt the power to do so, "Michael, there is something you need to know about me." Michael looked at her curiously while she searched for the words she wanted to say.

"What's wrong," he asked her.

"It's just that…there is a reason I was so mean to you and everyone else. I was afraid that I'd care about you or someone else and if that happened I'd never be able to live with myself," Willow said franticly, "so I alienated myself on purpose so that maybe I'd end up not feeling so terrible when it happened, but now I do care about you and it's all a big mistake and I'm sorry!" Michael laid his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Willow, what are you talking about? What's going to happen," he asked.

"Yes Willow, what is going to happen?" A deep and powerful voice reverberated through the air from seemingly nowhere, and a thick black fog filled the air. Michael felt strange, like he'd been here before, like he knew what the black fog was and yet at the same time it was totally foreign to him. The black fog began to take shape on the tower, and a tall dark hooded figure appeared, looming over the two Heroes. Michael stepped in front of Willow to keep the mysterious dark figure away from her.

"Who are you, how do you know Willow," Michael tried interrogating the cloaked man.

"My boy, I've known Willow since she was a baby, and you as well Michael," he responded, "I am the dark lord that your home the Hero's Guild has been training you to kill since day one. I am Skorm, and dear Willow here is my daughter."

Michael stumbled backwards as if the very words hit him in the stomach. He turned his head around to look at Willow hoping that it wasn't true, but the ashamed look on her face said it all.

"Why didn't you say anything," he asked her.

"You don't understand, he wouldn't let me! Since I was a baby he's been in my mind, controlling me. I've tried to break free, I thought I had but he's so powerful," Willow tried to explain.

"That's correct Willow, and you've been a very bad girl, but you're about to redeem yourself in my eyes. Come," Skorm beckoned her to stand by his side, but Michael held her back when she tried to walk.

"I'm not letting you take her Skorm, she isn't yours to control," Mike said defiantly.

"Oh? And what exactly can you do to stop me demon," the evil one asked.

"First of all, I'm no demon. And second, this," he said.

_-Vrump-_

Michael utilized his time control spell in order to get behind Skorm. He drew his sword and swung it at Skorm's head with all his might, but he was met by the butt of Skorm's sword as it dug into his gut. Michael was stopped in his tracks and Skorm gripped him by his collar, raising him into the air with one hand.

"That sword, your father used that very blade. Not to any affect mind you, but the nostalgia is touching," and with that Skorm threw Michael into one of the stone pillars and he fell to the ground in a heap. "You are a demon, Michael. Your father knew it, and that's why he abandoned you at that Guild, so that he could make sure that you couldn't grow into the horrible monster that lay dormant within you." Michael tried to ignore the words Skorm spoke as he fought back up to his feet, but every word seeped into his mind like a parasite and would not let him focus on anything else.

"Liar," he shouted, throwing a fire ball madly at him.

_-fwush-_

A simple stroke of his hand was all Skorm needed to deflect the blast.

_-fwush- -fwush-_

Two more fire balls flew Skorm's way, but they were repelled as simply as the first. Michael's runes were a vibrant red, brighter than ever before as anger fueled his magic.

"You need no more clear evidence than the marks on your body, the luminescent red indicated a spiritual body inside of you, and that spirit is that of a demon," Skorm explained, "and that is exactly why little Willow here was so drawn to you."

Willow shook her head franticly in denial, "No, it's not true," she pleaded.

"Of course it is. Everything that you've done was according to my plan, even when your mother stole you away from me and left you at the Guild you followed my plan perfectly. I told you to find the strongest young Hero that you could, and you found Michael just as I thought you would. I told you to destroy him, and you surpassed any expectation I could have set. I presumed you would merely shoot him while on one of your quests, but what you did was much more maniacal wasn't it? You lead him on, you gave him hope, and when you finally gave him that first sweet kiss and made him think that all was well in the world, you lead him to me. Well done my girl, I am very proud of you," once again Skorm motioned for Willow to approach him, and this time she obeyed as tears seemed to stream out of her now black eyes. She was once again under Skorm's control, unable to restrain herself.

Michael's rage began to build, he couldn't bear the weight of the betrayal in his heart. His body grew hotter and hotter, and soon flames began to emerge from his hands and feet. He melted the very ground he stood on as the fire inside of him became external, and he was ready for one final attack.

"Michael no, you can't beat him, run away and warn the Guild, there is still a chance you could live," Willow begged him.

"Silence girl," Skorm ordered, and Willow found herself speechless once again.

Michael wasn't listening, he was focusing all his hurt and anger into his Will, creating a fire ball more massive than any he'd ever created before. When it was complete he hurled it with every ounce of strength in his body at the dark lord. Willow jumped out of the way of the blast, but Skorm stood absolutely still, as if it didn't even exist. The fireball was dead on and created a furious blaze where he stood, lighting up the night sky like a torch. Michael fell to his knees, huffing and puffing as his energy was sapped, thinking he'd killed Skorm at last, "I did it," he said weakly.

However just when Michael thought it was over, the flames came back at him like a might flamethrower, forcing Michael against a pillar while the flames rushed at him. When they finally dissipated Michael fell to the floor face down and barely breathing, while Skorm loomed over him with barely a burn to be seen. Skorm lifted him by his neck as his body hung like a rag doll, opening his eyes to see his plan had obviously failed.

"And now, you die. Willow, please do the honors," Skorm spoke dreadfully. Willow's eyes were blue again as she was trying to fight off Skorm's control, but a snap of his fingers changed them back to black and she raised her crossbow with a trembling arm.

"Michael, I'm so sorry, I can't stop him," she spoke gently, fighting back the tears. Michael was too weak to answer, he could only look at Willow and see the hurt in her eyes and notice it matched the pain he felt.

_-shink-_

A single arrow flew into Michael's chest and it appeared as if it was over. Skorm dropped him to his feet, and Michael's frail body stumbled backwards over the edge of the cliff, and plunged into the water below. Skorm watched him fall into the dark waters, a deeply satisfying smile on his face.

"Magnificent Willow, I couldn't imagine a more perfect way to utterly destroy the one thing that could possibly put a wrench into my plans," Skorm bragged.

_-shink-_

Another arrow flew through his body, causing Skorm to grimace in pain.

"You took him away from me, you monster! You took him away from me," Willow screamed at him. Skorm turned around and his confidence turned into shock and fear, "my entire life I was forced not to care, not to feel anything because if I did I knew I would just end up losing it."

-_shink-_

"But Michael didn't care. After all I did to him he never stopped caring about me and he tried so hard to bring the good in me out. For once I'm happy, for just a moment all that goodness I hid away came out and that feeling made up for all the years of pain I felt!"

_-shink-_

"And then you come along, and you take away the only good thing in my life, the only thing I ever loved! I will never forgive you for that! I will see you broken at my feet you monster!"

_-shink-_

Five arrows filled Skorm's chest and a great weakness fell over him.

"Your betrayal will not be forgotten you foolish girl. Know that my attack on the Guild is coming, and when it comes you will not be sparred," Skorm cursed at her. His body changed back into the black fog, and it drifted away. Willow dropped her crossbow and fell to her knees, crying uncontrollably over the loss of her only friend.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter twelve; Peter's Journey, Futility

Michael hadn't stopped crying since the battle had begun that morning and now his voice was raspy and raw which only made him more upset. Peter ran through the woods like a man possessed, fleeing the morbid scene he had been forced to leave behind. Garth was dead, Scythe was dead, and if Peter didn't run quickly enough he too would surely die along with his son. Garth had assured him that the Guild was just through the trees at the other end of the lake, but Peter had seen no signs of civilization since he landed on the shore. Thoughts of anxiety rushed through his head, had he swum to the wrong shore, could Garth's directions have been false, and how close was Skorm from extinguishing his life once and for all?

Peter was truly exhausted, he had never before run this long or swam that hard in his entire life and surely never with a baby strapped to his chest. His arms and legs felt like lead weights, barely able to lift them at all. The fatigue of his quest had finally caught up to him. When Peter could run no more he collapsed on the ground in a heap, gasping for breath. He could see the deadly black fog surrounding him and he knew it was over, he had been trapped. Peter was no longer confused, no longer afraid at least for himself, instead he was angry. Angry that he had worked so hard for nothing. Angry that all his sacrifices and prayers had been in vain. All he wanted was for his son's life to be better than his own, and instead he had simply brought his to a different end.

Peter now only had one thing on his mind, if he was going to die now then he had to know why.

"What do you want from me?" he shouted to his predator.

"What indeed," the deep voice replied, seemingly coming from everywhere, "you are just a simple man with a baby and yet I pursue you. So I offer you this query, how does a pathetic feeble man such as yourself find yourself in the company of the two formerly greatest Heroes alive?"

The question alone angered Peter, and he responded with according spite, "Luck I suppose."

"And what luck you have," the fog began to take shape, forming the eerie and menacing hooded man who had been behind all of the miseries in his quest to save his son, "you were lucky enough to become the last one slaughtered at my hands before I wreak my vengeance on the Hero's Guild," Skorm explained and he raised his wretched sword above his head, "now I'd tell you to say goodbye, but it appears you have no one left to say it to."

"Goodbye,"

Just as Skorm swung his blade to strike Peter down, lightning shot out from the trees and struck the demonic sword. For the first time in this whole adventure, Peter saw Skorm in pain. He looked up at his malicious pursuer burning as the night sky lit up with the energies exploding all around them. Peter drew his blade at last, scooting backwards along the ground to get any kind of distance between himself and the demon. Skorm fell on one knee, using his sword to keep himself up.

"Who dares," the furious specter exclaimed.

"The Hero's Guild dares," a long voice shouted from the trees.

Skorm looked around, searching for the source of the voice. At first there was no one to be seen, but soon enough a rather large young man stepped out into plain sight standing on a branch. A second Hero steps out from a bush, this one a lovely young woman. A third emerges and he appears to be a battle-hardened veteran by his numerous scars. Dozens more appeared after that seemingly from everywhere, but none of them spoke a word, they simply loomed over Skorm and put the fear of God into the dark one. At last the final man stepped out into the clearing, a rather old man with white and blue robes and fine white hair. The old man seemed to be the leader by the look of respect his peers exuded. He strolled slowly over to Peter and laid a hand on his shoulder, helping him to his feet.

Peter was confused, but more so relieved as it seemed he had finally found the Hero's Guild, or rather it had found him. Peter snapped back into reality and unstrapped his crying infant son from his chest and handed him to the old man, "this is my son Michael," he said, "he is a Hero like yourselves, I've come from Westcliff so that he may live here safe from persecution with you."

The old man accepted the child with a gentle smile and nodded, "you are a brave man, and a loving father. Your son will be safe with us," he replied in the same voice that Peter heard right before the lightning struck. Could this old man be the one who stopped Skorm in his tracks?

"No one will be safe! You will all die here and now, starting with you, you feeble old man," Skorm barked wrathfully standing back up to his feet and pointing his now glowing evil blade at Peter and his savior. As soon as he did the forest lit up with various energies as Heroes charged a mixture of spells and threatening to unleash their powers upon the dark one.

"You have failed demon, in your present state you have no hope of surviving our next attack. Leave now and you will be spared, but should you decline we will punish you for all your evil deeds here and now," the old man decreed, giving Skorm one last chance to escape. There was an uncomfortable, long silence as Skorm failed to react at all to the threat, his black pit-like eyes just stared at the old man, peering into his soul.

"I…am…Skorm," the demon answered, "I live on a plain of existence higher than anything you fools could possibly comprehend. I am a God!"

The army of Heroes prepared there spells, all ready to unleash them on a moment's notice.

"You may fell me this day, but I will take you with me, and when I return you will not be here to protect your precious Heroes, and I will eviscerate every living being of this world before I send it to the abyss," Skorm continued dreadfully," and it all begins with you," before the demon's words could truly sink in he unleashed a blast of pitch black fire, and a split second after every Hero surrounding him attacked with all their strength. A mighty explosion blinded the Heroes momentarily, and for a moment the wondered if they had been over zealous, but when the dust settled and the light died down there was a crater where Skorm once stood, only his sword was left behind and soon enough it faded away as well.

The Heroes were so proud of their accomplishment that they celebrated in the woods, though each one of them knew one day Skorm would return as he swore, but tonight his reign of terror was at an end.

Suddenly, the celebration ended as Skorm's last words rang true. One of them had fallen, and he lay on the ground with a massive burn on his chest. Peter was dead. He had thrown himself in front of the dark fire in an attempt to rescue his son and the old man from Skorm's final attack. The Heroes looked upon the fallen stranger as Michael cried, and the scarred veteran among the approached the old man and he asked, "Who was that man?"

"A Hero."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen, The Hero's Journey: Fulfillment

Willow raced back to the Guild as fast as her legs could carry her, wiping her eyes of the tears that blurred her vision, but she could not wipe away the images that blurred her emotions. Michael was as the bottom of Bower Lake and Skorm was with his army readying themselves for their attack on the Guild, and Willow was the only one who knew. She knew she had to warn everyone or else they would surely be killed, she just prayed she could get there in time.

When she finally arrived it was dawn and only a few guards were awake. She ran straight past them, shouting "the Guild is being attacked, sound the alarm!" The guards were confused at first but they decided to heed her words and activate the Guild's alarm. The harsh sounds of the ringing bells awoke the Guildmaster and when he opened his door he found Willow waiting for him, red faced and teary eyed, completely out of breath.

"Willow, what has happened?" James asked.

"Skorm…he's back…attacking the Guild…Michael…" she could barely form a sentence, she was still overwhelmed by what had happened.

"Calm down child, what's this about Skorm? Where is Michael?" The Guildmaster questioned further.

"Dead…Skorm killed him…" Willow lied. The whole truth didn't matter now, what mattered is that the Guild was to be ready for the coming assault, "he's coming here now with his army. He wants every Hero dead so he can destroy the world without opposition."

James looked oddly calm at the news of Skorm but yet still disturbed, "Thank you Willow. Get yourself ready and meet the others out front. I will join you shortly."

Willow lunged forward and in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, hugged the Guildmaster. "I'm so sorry," Willow said simply before running off to prepare herself. James was now confused, but he had bigger things to worry about.

When Willow got to the front she found her peers in full battle attire wiping their tired eyes. Speer seemed especially frustrated at having to wake up at such an hour.

"Willow! What the hell is going on? Why are we all here," Speer asked.

"Skorm is coming and Michael is dead," she answered shortly, "so shut up and get ready or you'll die too," Willow was once again business as usual, short tempered and fiery. All she was thinking about was revenge, until then nothing else was secondary. When everyone heard what Willow said they were stunned.

"Bloody? He's dead? How did that happen," Speer asked, still using Michael's nickname at the most inappropriate of times.

"That doesn't matter now," Willow shouted above the crowd, "what matters is that we defend ourselves from whatever is thrown at us, and more importantly that we kill Skorm. Only then can we be safe. Nothing else is as important as this." Willow couldn't bear to admit that it was she who pulled the trigger, and so tried her hardest to keep Michael's death off everyone's minds.

Everyone had been so focused on the speech that they realized a new fire in Willow. Normally Willow had seemed to them that she could care less about any given member of the Guild, but today it was as if there was nothing else in the world more worth defending. It was inspirational, and yet at the same time frightening.

"We stand here today at the door of All-time. Skorm is the key and we are the lock. In our entire history there has been no monster, villain or demon with the same fear and notoriety that Skorm possesses. He has hunted, he has manipulated, and he has killed anyone who would get in his way of fulfilling his morbid dreams. He has no heart, no soul, he is the embodiment of evil and if we do not extinguish him this day he will surely continue to terrorize our world until it is ultimately destroyed. We will show Skorm the fear we can inspire in all that is evil! We must fight like a demon, show him that there are scarier beings in the world than he, and those things are us! When you threaten our world you threaten us, and there can be no greater force than our united Hero's Guild! So come with me Heroes of the Guild and fight! This is the epitome of infamy, and should we be successful there will be no task we cannot accomplish!"

Willow's speech had the entire Guild up in arms, they shouted in a mighty roar and now were ready for battle. The Heroes followed united behind Willow onto the battlefield, where her father was waiting.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen, The Hero's Journey: Vengeance

When the battle began it was a mad rush for the center of the field which was a rather large hill. The Heroes charged together as a massive force united by a common cause, righteous and confident. Skorm's army of Dark Beowolves howled an eerie howl at the rising sun and stampeded into the fray like a pack of bloodthirsty beasts. Willow led the Heroes in the Guildmaster's conspicuous absence, while Skorm stayed behind and manipulated his army like a puppet master.

The first line of Heroes when they were in range, fired off simultaneous lightning strikes at the Dark Beowolves' front line, leveling them and leaving them to be trampled by the rest of the dark warriors. After the attack one quarter of the Dark Beowolves' soldiers threw their deadly spears into the mass of Heroes. Some were able to avoid or deflect the spears, but several were unable to save themselves and were run through by the magical blades. Losses on each side, and the battle had only just begun. When the two armies met head to head and face to face the ground shook, and the world would know that this battle would change everything.

Each side fought for each inch they gained, striking wildly at all enemies around them. The warriors of the Guild were tenacious and were able to gain a quick advantage over the Dark Beowolves, but for some reason they could not push them back. Every time one was slain another would take its place like an endless cycle of snarling spear wielding monsters. The Heroes may have been scoring more kills, but they were the ones being pushed back. Heroes were beginning to fall in greater numbers, allowing the Dark Beowolves to surround one or two and attack in packs. The Heroes were forced to expend more and more energy to harness more powerful spells of Will to try and even the fight, but it still didn't seem to make a difference. Willow was one of the many to become isolated from her comrades and it was during a fight with a circle of the enemy that she realized what was happening.

"They're getting back up," she said grimly to herself. The entire time the battle had been waging, Skorm has stood back and raised the dead of his fallen warriors. When she realized what was happening she tried to turn and warn the others, "They're getting back up! Skorm is raising his dead! Return to the bunker, we cannot win this fight like this!" her fellow Heroes took notice. The Guild's remaining warriors turned and ran, covering their retreat with a wall of fire in front of a deep entrenchment. Willow tried to retreat with her comrades but she was cut off, by her father.

"Did you really think it would end this easily? Did you really think you could win? I am still in your head little girl, there is not a thought you have that I don't hear. I knew you're little plan to defend the Guild, I knew you wouldn't be able to stop my resurrections, and I knew the by the time you did figure it out I'd have you here all alone…where I could snuff out your miserable life," Skorm revealed ominously, "but there is one thing that you've managed to keep a secret from me. I don't know the location of your Guild's little bunker. For some reason you've been able to develop quite a resistance to me over your years that have let you escape my grasp, but that is of no importance now. I am going to reach into your mind and make you my slave again, and there is nothing you can do to resist me."

Skorm reached forward with her grimly hand, trying to reach straight into the frightened Willow's mind while the Dark Beowolves held her in place.

"You will betray your friends…whether you like it or not…guh!" Skorm cringed and staggered backwards, holding his hand. It seemed broken the way it hung limply from his wrist. The Dark Beowolves fell to the floor like bags of sand and many of them dissolved away into dust. Something had broken Skorm's control over the undead, and that something was James.

_-Vrump-_

James appeared behind Willow and placed a hand gently on her head, causing her eyes to glow white and vibrantly.

"Your mind and hers have been connected for far too long demon, but I will forever sever your connection," James declared.

"No! You will not take her away from me! Her life is mine alone to control!" Skorm barked, trying to mentally repair the connection that was gradually deteriorating between himself and his estranged daughter.

"You have expended too much energy Skorm, a common flaw you tend to repeat. You've wasted your energies resurrecting your fallen, just like you wasted your energies eighteen years ago trying to kill the strongest Heroes alive in one night," said the old man, "but this time, I will destroy you myself. Prepare yourself demon!"

"No one can destroy me! I am a god! I will kill you, just like I killed that foolish peasant and his son! The Heroes will die today!" Skorm began charging a mass of dark swirling energies, so powerful it seemed to warp the space around them. James stood before the now weakened Willow to protect her, who clung to his robes as tears ran down her face. James tried amassing a protective barrier, but he knew his energies alone would only be enough to save one of them.

"It is time to repay my debt," he said solemnly.

Willow felt a sharp electric feeling run up her spine as a strange energy flowed through her. She looked down as the maelstrom of energies swirled around her, and she saw something. A tear fell from her face to the ground, and through the water she saw Michael. She could see Michael lying at the bottom of Bower Lake, but that wasn't the strangest thing about the sight of him. What was strange is that his runes continued to glow, something that shouldn't happen if he was truly dead. He glowed brighter, hotter until his body was consumed with the vibrant red light, and in a flash he was gone. She wondered what could be going on, if she had been delusional and her mind was losing its grip on reality in her final moments.

The sun grew hotter as the two warriors prepared for the final attack, so hot that it was nearly impossible to see. The light was blinding and Skorm began to whither. Realizing his power was diminishing he decided now was the time to end things once and for all, and he unleashed his mighty blaze of pitch black fire at James and Willow, thinking his work was finally done.

_-Vrump-_

A blinding light impeded the bath of the blaze and it was deflected to the ground where demonic fired flared up in a circle around them. None of the three could see and had to look away to avoid permanent damage to their eyes. A deep echoing voice reverberated through the air.

"The wrongs of the past will now be avenged. You will be the first to suffer at my hands, prepare for your punishment, as I will reduce you to nothingness in my fire," the voice declared from the light. It advanced towards Skorm and he shouted in utter fear, becoming engulfed by the flames of the sun itself. The flames began to rise off the ground with Skorm inside of it, higher and higher into the sky, into the endlessness of space. The flames spoke again, "you will not revive this time demon, today I end your existence forever."

The flames began to close in on itself, compacting the blaze in the dark expanses until there was no room for Skorm to move, and then it compacted more. The burning fires were focused to a point and imploded in on itself, and the energies fluxing became a void and as if he never existed, Skorm had vanished, and only a tiny glimmer of light remained in its place. James and Willow looked up into the sky and witnessed the cataclysmic event, in awe of the power just exuded by the mysterious being. They wondered what sort of power it would take to do something like that, something they never imagined possible. As soon as the thought crossed their minds the light in the sky began to move, back down to the earth the little light fell until it settled before the two. It was much tinier, about the size of a bush at this point but still shiny and magnificent. The light began to fade and slowly a familiar form appeared before the two, leaving them breathless.

"Michael…"

End Part One.


End file.
